


The Mystery

by SophiaCatherine



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Polyamory, finding a purpose, magical mysteries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 19:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/pseuds/SophiaCatherine
Summary: Iris finds herself staring at Zari. At her sleek hair, falling in waves down the narrow curve of her back. Her graceful hands, gripping her spoon like she thinks it might run away. Her defined lips, where she’s gone for a natural look with just a hint of gloss...Oh God.Zari’s hot.This is deeply irritating.





	The Mystery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SheWhoWalksUnseen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWhoWalksUnseen/gifts).

> For the DCCW Rarepair Exchange.
> 
> I hope I've done justice to your lovely prompt, SheWhoWalksUnseen - and you should know I've fallen head-over-heels for this gorgeous ship!
> 
> Thanks so much to Thette and Hans for beta reading.

Iris West—

Who isn’t sure if she will ever be Iris West-Allen now—

Iris West stands in the STAR Labs parking lot in front of the cloaked Waverider, shimmering just enough that she can tell it’s there. Waiting. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Barry,” she said two days ago, after one more muted argument that flared back down into hopeless emptiness. He cried (again) and she stayed heartlessly dry-eyed (again). 

She was all cried out long before he came back from the Speed Force. Too much talking in circles in therapy wasn’t helping, with everything that mattered still left unsaid. 

_ How could you leave me? _

They ended up side-by-side on the living room floor, his arm around her shoulders as they ate an entire chocolate cake, passing the the fork back and forth between them. Like when they were kids and one of them was sad.

Like they were just friends again.

_ (Just… _A flippant little word to put in front of the most important thing they would always be to each other. The one thing that could never change between them, no matter what else did.)

He looked at her with those kind eyes, full of more love for her than for anything else in the world. 

But he could still leave her when someone else needed him more.

Iris found herself staring at the floor, at the spot where, only months ago, DeVoe’s blood had taken root in the rug, never to come out again. (After three days trying, when she was about ready to burn the place down, she’d had a whole new carpet put in. It didn’t stop her seeing the blood every time she looked at it.) 

She looked around the apartment she’d had to come home to, dark and empty, after he had walked out of her life and into the Speed Force. Her eyes lingered on the couch, where she had slept away the summer, without him.

He had put the city before their relationship. Before _ her. _Again.

“I don’t want to be left alone again,” she said, before she could think better of it. 

Barry’s soft, sad intake of breath hurt her heart. “I know,” he said in a choked voice that betrayed how much he was blaming himself. And for a tight, angry moment, she didn’t care, because _ he should be_.

“You’re going to keep making decisions without me and I’m going to keep living with the consequences.”

He didn’t answer. There was no lie that could make it better.

When Iris called her the next day, Sara asked the question Iris had been wishing Barry would ask her. “What do you want?”

When Iris murmured vaguely about needing some time to herself, her friend’s face on the video screen shifted into an astute look. “The Waverider’s a good place for that,” she advised, her tone suspiciously light. “A lot of us here started out with nowhere else to go. And then found what we were looking for right here.”

And now here Iris is, wavering at an invisible door, feeling like every part of her is being ripped in two. Between what she’s leaving behind, and this terrifying, thrilling chance to figure out what she wants.

The door abruptly becomes visible as it’s flung open and Mick Rory shoves his head out. “You getting on board this flying bucket of bolts, or what?”

It’s such a change of pace from the hurt of the last few days - longer - that she almost laughs out loud. She takes the hand he offers her, and lets him help her onto the Waverider.

She allows herself one glance back at STAR Labs, where she knows Barry is watching from a window, too sad to see her off. 

_ I’m coming back. _

She hopes it’s not an empty promise.

Then the Waverider doors close behind her with a gentle hiss.

* * *

“And this is the bridge again, and that’s the end of the tour, and—” Sara spins around to give Iris a wry smile— “and why do I feel like you were barely with me for the last three rooms I showed you?” The eyebrow Sara raises is amused, with a touch of concern for her friend.

The time stream is swirling outside the bridge window, green and alien. It reminds Iris of the Speed Force.

She blinks back into this reality. “Sorry.”

Sara purses duck-lips, then shifts around to the other side of the console so she can bump Iris’s shoulder. It’s sweet. “If you, uh, want to talk about your feelings you’d probably be better with anyone else on the Waverider, up to and including Mick Rory.” Iris snorts a laugh. “But… it’s okay, you know,” Sara continues. “To need time to yourself.”

Iris feels herself swallow. 

It’s not okay. This is not what Iris West does. She stands up to the monsters and says _ fuck you. _ She doesn’t just run away when the going gets tough.

Sara’s hand gently taps the back of Iris’s. “Hey,” she says softly. And suddenly she’s smiling at Iris like she’s just had a really bad idea. “Come on. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

“Who?” Iris calls after her - she’s already striding towards the bridge doors.

“You’ll see,” Sara calls back.

* * *

Zari is a jerk. 

She’s been snarking about the chore wheel for hours, which is not okay, okay? Iris has been here two minutes and she already loves that chore wheel. And she loves Ray, who made it, and is a sweetie.

They’re in the kitchen, and Mick’s in the very active process of noping out of the chore wheel discussion. Which leaves Zari, Sara and Iris.

Sara glances between the other two. Iris does _ not _like the look on her face.

“Well,” Sara says, “if there’s anything else you need to get settled in, just ask Gideon.” And then, with a positively gleeful look, she gets up and leaves Zari and Iris in the kitchen.

Alone.

_ Together. _

Iris finds herself staring at Zari. At her sleek hair, falling in waves down the narrow curve of her back. Her graceful hands, gripping her spoon like she thinks it might run away. Her defined lips, where she’s gone for a natural look with just a hint of gloss...

Oh God.

Zari’s hot. 

This is _ deeply _ irritating.

Zari manages to stop eating for long enough to look Iris up and down. “What?” she snaps.

Iris considers pointing out that Zari’s being rude - is she capable of being anything else? - but she doesn’t. Just does her best impression of Caitlin Snow’s smile and sits down. “So,” she says, modelling her cheerful tone on Barry, “how long have you been here?”

Zari’s eyebrows start climbing up her head. “Longer than you,” she mutters, and goes back to the enormous chocolate sundae in front of her.

Iris has no idea what that’s about, and she doesn’t care. (She _ doesn’t.) _She shrugs and gets up. 

At the door, she stops and glances back. Zari has put down her spoon. She looks very far away, suddenly, and very small. 

Iris knows that look. 

“Gideon,” she says as soon as she’s back in her room, with its gray walls, empty of almost everything except the photo on the desk - the one of her, Dad and… Barry. She’s running her hand over his face before she notices what she’s doing. 

She jerks away as if she’s been burned.

“Yes, Ms. West?” 

Iris had already forgotten she’d asked. “Uh, hi. Sara said you could tell me about anything I needed to know? About the Waverider, I mean.”

“Certainly, if the information is available to me and has not been classified by the Time Bureau.”

The AI’s tone is cheerful, almost human. It sounds nothing like its counterpart back at STAR, which is probably for the best.

She sits down at the desk. “The new crew member - Zari. How long has she been here?”

“Two weeks, Ms. West.”

Hmm. Iris chews at a nail. “Thanks. And why did she join the crew?”

By the time Gideon has finished telling her, Iris is rocking back in her desk chair, staring at the ceiling. 

Well, it does explain some of the attitude.

She looks down, and the photo catches her eye again. 

Gideon is linked to her STAR Labs counterpart, ever since the brewhaha with the Dominators. She could call Cisco. Get caught up on what’s going on there.

She could call Barry.

(She doesn’t call Barry.)

* * *

A few weeks later, Iris is starting to feel like part of the crew.

Sara respects her. Asks her opinion, sends her on missions. She pushes Iris towards things in her journalistic skill set, especially - investigations, mystery-solving.

Ray jokes that she’ll be setting up the Waverider News sooner or later.

Iris smiles tightly and says nothing.

Zari, on the other hand, is still being an asshole with everyone on the ship except for Amaya - and she's so often busy with Nate. Sometimes, when Zari thinks no one’s watching, Iris thinks she looks lonely.

Iris knows the feeling.

Today, Zari not only looks like she’s not having a shitty day, she also seems determined to drag everyone else down with her.

“I can’t believe you lost the mystical artifact,” Sara is saying. 

“I didn’t _ lose _ it.” Zari is standing at the bridge window, looking like she’s playing her own private game of ‘anywhere but here’, and Iris is _ really _ wishing she wouldn’t lean against the window frame like that. She’s wearing this gorgeous short-sleeved black top - nothing flashy, really very sensible for work, except that it’s showing off her bare arms with their lithe lines of muscle and _ God _ Iris has to stop thinking about her like this. It’s not like Zari’s even interested enough to look at Iris, never mind say two words to her, most days. 

“That’s literally why we sent you to the flea market,” Sara says with a brittle smile. “And then you decided you were more interested in letting people run off it with it so they could change the timeline, than bringing it back to us.”

Zari barely acknowledges her. She just keeps staring out, a little wide-eyed, into the swirling green behind the window. “The kids needed it to save their family,” she says distantly, like she understands this stuff better than the rest of them.

Iris doesn’t entirely _ get _ this magic business, but Zari clearly has some kind of connection with it. Iris would love to ask her so many questions about it, but getting Zari to open up about anything at all is a battle Iris is still a little too tired to fight.

Stepping around to the other side of the console, Iris turns towards Sara and her mission briefing. They’ve already had one distracted crew member lose an artifact that could be key to defeating Damian Darhk. Determined not to contribute to another disaster, Iris frowns with the effort of listening.

Unlike Zari, who doesn’t even seem to notice the glare that Sara's aiming at her. 

“So I think we need to split up into teams,” Sara says. “Ray and Martin, you get working on how we use the artifact. Nate and Jax, see if you can research whether it’s ever turned up anywhere else in history. Yes, Nate?”

Nate has his hand in the air like he’s back at school. “Didn’t Gideon say she can’t find any sign of it in other time periods?”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t there, Dr. Heywood,” comes Gideon’s clipped voice in reply. “I have access to official records, but an occult object such as this could have been hidden from such records. You will need to look for oblique and metaphorical references. The Rod of Time. The Staff of Rewritten Truth.”

“The penis of fucking the timeline,” adds Mick, who’s clearly been listening more than he’s been pretending to.

Sara pats Nate on the back. “There you go. Some nice, traditional historian work for you. Go work on your Google-fu, guys.” She spins to resume glaring at Zari. “As for you…”

Finally, Zari turns away from the dizzying green view with a very fake smile. “Yes?”

“You helped get us into this mess. You’re gonna help get us out. You’re going to comb through every flea market in the 1910s Bay Area to find that artifact.” Zari starts to complain, but Sara holds up a hand. A little too eagerly, she spins around and says, “Iris. You’re good at tracking down a mystery. You can help.”

Iris can’t decide if Zari’s looking at her like this is the worst idea she’s ever heard, or if she’s just… done.

* * *

Zari flat-out refuses to search without a clue to guide them. She sets up an algorithm to comb through information about the flea markets remotely.

“So,” Zari says, tapping code into her terminal, “what’s up with you and that boyfriend of yours?”

Her fingers are going a mile a minute. Iris tries to tear her eyes away, but Zari’s hands are beautiful, especially when they’re working like that. Unlike Iris, she keeps her nails unpainted and tidy, very pretty but short enough that they don’t get in the way of her typing. She’s got a simple, lovely silver ring on the center finger of her right hand. Those are coder’s hands. 

Iris swallows, pretending she’s not weak for a competent woman.

She glances down at her own left hand, with its red, manicured nails - now missing its engagement ring. She feels naked without it.

“Fiancé,” Iris replies. She doesn’t want to say _ ex-fiancé. _ She’s still hoping that’s not what he is. “We’re… taking a break.”

She looks up again, and Zari’s watching her, with just occasional glances back to her fingers where they’re still flying across the keys. “What kind of break?”

_ The kind where I don’t know if I’ll go back, _ Iris thinks. What she says is, “One where we can both do what we like for a while.”

Zari’s eyebrows go up, and for a moment she turns a searching gaze on Iris... but Iris can’t guess what she’s thinking.

“There,” Iris says, pointing at the viewer, where the grainy newspaper picture shows a familiar object hiding on a pile of bric-a-brac on a table. “Gideon, can you zoom in?”

The picture is a bit blurry, but it’s definitely the artifact - a narrow slice of wood with occult symbols carved into its silver-capped ends. 

The old thrill of solving a mystery is beating out a rhythm in Iris’s chest. 

“That’s it!” Iris whoops, slamming down her hand on the pile of papers in front of her.

Damn, it’s been a while since she really felt like a reporter. Quitting to run Team Flash was important, and God knows no one else was going to do it, but this is what she was built to do. It’s _ her _ purpose, not— anyone else’s.

Zari rolls back her desk chair to blink at her. “Hold your horses, West. We still have to find the thing.” She points at the viewscreen. “That’s just a report on local antique markets. The picture could be from any of them.”

She’s right, Iris reluctantly admits. In her head. Not out loud. “We know it’s there, and when. Now we’re getting in the jump ship and searching every flea market in the city.”

Zari peers at her, looking just a teeny bit impressed. “You always make the plans?”

“Yup.”

“Do they work?”

Iris grins. “Enough of the time.”

Rolling her chair back into place, Zari shrugs. “Okay then, boss. Let’s get on the jump ship.”

* * *

They don’t get on the jump ship.

At the door, they’re greeted with Gideon’s voice. “Good morning Ms. West, Ms. Tomaz. I regret to inform you that the ship needs repairs before you can travel.”

Zari narrows her eyes, while Iris is raising hers to the ceiling. _ “What?” _ Zari snaps.

“It broke down during Mr. Rory’s sojourn to the 2150s last week and he has not yet been back to repair it.”

“Of course he hasn’t.” Zari strides through the door, glaring at Iris as she crouches at the engine panel. Which feels unfair, since this is far from Iris’s fault. “This is my domain, West. Make yourself useful and bring me a coffee.”

Iris almost objects, but Zari’s (very nice) hands are already moving smoothly, effortlessly inside the panel, pulling out wires and switching up relays with a comfortable familiarity that reminds Iris of Cisco at work in his lab. And Iris knows how to delegate to an expert.

When she returns with coffee, Zari is muttering at the engine. “...have the worst luck in the entire multiverse…”

Iris laughs. “Nope. I think that’s reserved for some of the citizens of Central City.”

Zari glances up at her, eyes narrowing. And then she shrugs, and those lovely hands go back to work.

Iris sits and watches Zari from behind as she works - she has such elegant, glossy hair - trying not to scowl. They could be spending the next week together, and she can’t deal with this chilly atmosphere for that long. 

That’s the only reason she wants to fix this. (It _ is.) _

“Zari, can I ask you something?”

Her hands don’t stop moving, jerking wires around. “Sounds like you’re gonna.”

Iris restrains herself from rolling her eyes. “Serious question.”

A shrug. “Sure.”

“Why this ‘hacking history’ thing?”

Zari’s hands stop moving.

“I mean,” Iris goes on, lounging back in her seat, “I get that you want to save people. I really do. But don’t you care about the consequences? The Time Bureau have rules about these things for a reason.” 

She maybe didn’t mean to sound quite so judgy, but images of Barry after Flashpoint have started running through her head. The way he looked when he talked about baby Sara and Killer Frost. How his voice cracked when he offered to give himself up to the Dominators.

Zari turns around. “What would you know about the consequences of changing the timeline?”

“More than you’d think.” 

She’s being stared at, now. “Then I guess you don’t know much about the consequences of _ not _ changing the timeline. Or you wouldn’t even ask me that.”

“I know about those, too,” Iris says softly.

She doesn’t think she’s imagining that they share a moment, their eyes locked. And for a minute, they’re just two people who’ve been hurt by a cruel universe that doesn’t care about them.

Then Zari turns away, and Iris can almost hear the sound of glass shattering as the moment abruptly ends. “You’ve got no right to judge me,” Zari mutters.

She feels a stab of frustration. There’s no way she could ever explain the things she’s been through for the sake of the timeline, the multiverse, the greater good - not to someone who will barely speak to her, never mind listen. “That’s not what I’m doing.” 

Zari’s hands keep on pulling out wires with vicious snaps of her wrist. “I think you’re all talk, Iris. Plans and rules aren’t gonna stop this shitty world from running you over if it wants to.” 

There’s a pause. Iris blinks at Zari’s back, feeling like she just got whiplash.

“Iris West,” Zari goes on muttering, doing a passable impression of Sara. “Such a good _ team leader. _ So _ experienced. _ We really need her in this team…”

And Iris is done. She flings out her arms in a violent shrug. “Oh my _ God, _ Zari. Just... Shut up.”

There’s another beat before Zari says, “Excuse me?” 

By now Iris thinks she gets Zari enough to bet on it. “You play this too-cool-for-school game, but I think you don’t know how to feel anymore. You’re too afraid to.” Iris takes a step closer to the engine panel, where Zari’s hands have gone very still. “Join the club, hon.” 

The silence is thick in the air. Zari’s scowling up at the navigation display, avoiding Iris’s eyes.

Eventually, Iris shrugs and turns around, her heels echoing on the metal floor.

At the door of the jump ship, she looks back over her shoulder. “I know things suck right now, Zari. But you’re not the only person that's true for. If you don’t stop hating everyone around you and start seeing what you’ve got... all the people who love you here... then it won’t ever get any better.” As Zari looks up, something unreadable in her face, Iris catches her eye. “You’ve got a whole universe of opportunities to connect with people here.” 

She’s talking to herself, she realises with a little jolt, as much as to Zari. 

“You know where to find me if you want to try,” Iris adds. She steps out of the ship, still feeling Zari's eyes on her. “Gideon, call me when the jump ship is ready to go.”

“Of course, Ms. West,” Gideon says, in a very awkward tone.

* * *

There are _ hundreds _ of flea markets, antique malls and junk stores in the Bay Area in 1911.

Zari has avoided talking to Iris for the five hours they’ve been searching so far, beyond the bare essentials of “Mulligan’s Bazaar is this way” and “That’s not the artifact, Iris. That’s a stick.” 

Somehow she still manages to make every necessary comment sound deeply sarcastic.

Iris bends down to rub her feet as they move into the sixth hour of their search. “Oh God. I can’t do this anymore.” She attempts to smile at her companion, who pretends to be looking at something in a store window. “You want lunch, Zari?”

Zari blinks a few times. It’s cute, really, how her obvious and constant desire for food is warring with her desire not to talk to Iris.

The expected option wins out.

“Yeah, okay,” Zari says. “I saw a place with vegetarian dishes just down that alley that looked cool.”

Iris tries to follow that. “You’re a vegetarian?”

Zari rolls her eyes. “No, West. It’s 1911 in North America, and I’m guessing even the liberal Bay Area _ probably _hasn’t grasped the concept of halal meat yet.”

Shit. Iris feels her eyes get wider. “Oh! I’m sorry if I offended…”

Snorting, Zari rolls her eyes even higher - Iris doesn’t know how she does that, but it’s quite a skill - and pats Iris’s shoulder in a shockingly friendly gesture. “Don’t be an idiot. You’ve said _ way _ more offensive things than in the last forty-eight hours. Come on. Lunch!”

She leads the way, whistling a tune as she goes. _ Whistling. _

Apparently, the way to Ms. Tomaz’s heart really is via her stomach.

* * *

The food _ delights _ Zari. It turns out to be an Italian cafe. Which turns out to be Zari’s favourite.

“Did you know,” she says, digging into her enormous plate of pasta, “that about five years from now, people all around America are going to start protesting about the immigrant Italians bringing their food in? Stealing American business opportunities, they'll say.” Her voice drops into a sad, tired note. “Nothing ever changes…”

Iris pushes her chicken parmigiana around her plate. “You know the _ history _ of food, too?”

Zari gets a wry little grin. “Used to be a bit of a hobby of mine, whenever I had internet access.” She leans back, looking more relaxed than Iris has ever seen her. “When you’ve lived on rations and gone hungry a lot of your life, you get keen on food. Even just in theory.”

Iris nods, not sure what to say.

Narrowing her eyes at her, Zari says, “Eat your food, West.” She grabs another huge bite of pasta. “Mmm. What about you? Big foodie?”

Iris chuckles. “Not really. I try to cook. I don't always set the kitchen on fire. Barry says—”

She stops talking and frowns at her chicken. 

It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about him. She just finds herself doing it too much. She’s pretty sure she’s boring the whole crew half to death with her stories and reminiscences - all of them about Barry.

But Zari looks up, suddenly interested. “Barry’s your ex-fiancé? The Flash?”

She nods.

“Why d’you take a break?” Zari asks through a full mouth.

A blink of an image, in monochrome. Barry walking into the Speed Force. Without her.

“Complicated,” Iris says after a minute.

Zari’s eyes have gone oddly soft at her. She shrugs. “Okay.”

For dessert, she orders the biggest cannoli Iris has ever seen, offering her the second fork. When Iris shakes her head, Zari grins at her, waving the fork like a temptation. “Come on, West. Live a little.”

So Iris does. It’s really good cannoli.

They find the artifact in the very next flea market, sitting on a table right by the door as they wander in.

* * *

After the mission that melted the frost between them a little - or should that be the mission _ when the hurricane died down? - _ Iris sees Zari around the Waverider more often.

A few brief encounters in the kitchen, snatches of conversation over breakfast and coffee that, Iris realises afterwards, were almost friendly.

An awkward, simultaneous “Oh, sorry—” as they walk into each other as Iris is entering the bathroom and Zari’s leaving. Smiles exchanged that, if it was anyone else, Iris might have called _ shy. _

An early morning when Iris can’t sleep, wandering onto the bridge to find Zari sitting in a jump seat, _ knitting. _“Yeah, I knit, West. Is that a problem? ...Don’t tell the others.” Zari visibly relaxing when Iris brings her coffee. Telling Iris that she wakes up early to pray, some days. The two of them talking about the big questions; Iris somehow stumbling into a story about the terror she felt in the face of the Speed Force.

“You felt like you were competing with it,” Zari says thoughtfully.

From her position on the step up to the study, Iris frowns up at her. “No, I—”

She hesitates. _ Is _ that what she felt, in the face of that all-powerful force that wanted to take Barry away from her? “Think I’m really that petty?” she asks. Not an accusation - a real question. She wants to be better than that.

But Zari’s half-smiling at her, that sad smile of hers that comes out, sometimes, when her walls of snark come down. “You’re human, Iris. You’re allowed to be a bit petty, under those circumstances.”

Iris smiles gratefully at her, and steers away from the topic of people who aren’t the two of them. 

And then they start spending time together intentionally. Watching movies together. Training together. Eating together, of course - Zari even attempting to teach Iris to cook and bake.

“You tried!” she says encouragingly, looking like she’s _ dying _ to say something snarky, as Iris stares hopelessly at down the extremely burnt pineapple sponge cake.

“It didn’t even rise,” she whines.

Zari pats her on the back. “You’re… getting better?” she says like she doesn’t believe it.

Iris grins at her. “I’m not.”

Tapping the cake, Zari snorts when it makes a noise like cardboard. “No, you’re really not.”

At some point, Iris realises they’re becoming friends. It’s… nice.

“It’s _ awful,” _ Iris complains to Sara, who’s sitting in the desk chair while Iris sulks on her bed. “I can’t be attracted to someone right now, Sara. I _ can’t.” _

The guilt has been building over the past few weeks. Every time she admires Zari’s intelligence. Her arms. Her hands. Her very shapely butt… Ugh, she has to stop this!

“Oh God,” she says, dropping her head into her lap.

Sara laughs.

Iris jerks her head back up again. “Sara Lance, are you laughing at my pain?”

Holding up a hand in a gesture of peace, Sara says, “No, no, I promise. Just at the situation. I was pretty sure one of you two was going to kill the other, your first few weeks here. And now look at you.”

Iris wrinkles her nose and points at her. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you tried to matchmake, my very first day here. And that you’re still doing it.”

Sara tosses her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Glaring, Iris says. _ “Sara. _ You know why it’s complicated.”

“Not really, honestly,” Sara says, tilting her head right and left. “Didn’t you and Barry break up?”

“Yeah.” Iris sighs. That’s the first time she’s admitted it was a break-up. It hurts. God, it hurts how much she misses him. But… She looks up into Sara’s shrewd eyes. “We said we’d review the situation, see if we want to get back together, after a break.”

“Did you decide if you were going to see other people?”

Iris smiles a smile she hopes is just a little bit wicked. “We’ve always seen other people. Barry’s been seeing a lovely CSI from Keystone for, like, a year. His name’s Peter. I don’t currently have anyone else, but there’ve been people.”

“Oh!” Sara says, her eyes widening. And then she grins, getting up and sitting down next to Iris on the bed. Patting her shoulder. “So what’s the problem, hon?”

Iris shakes her head, feeling the vague anxiety fluttering in her stomach again. “The way we do polyamory, there are rules - boundaries. To make sure everyone’s safe and happy.” She looks down to find she’s fiddling with the edge of the blanket, pulling at a loose thread. “When we see other people, they become…” She sighs. “Not part of our relationship - we don’t do threesomes - but part of our life. I should be introducing Zari to Barry. Asking if he’s good with it. Getting all three of us to talk.” 

And suddenly, that’s all she wants in the world.

She puts a hand over her mouth, mumbling, “You’re right. I can do what I want, without anyone’s permission. I just— don’t know if I want it to be that way…”

Sara puts a hand on her shoulder while a few tears escape.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Sara asks, after a minute.

Iris shakes her head, wiping her eyes. “Not right now. I’m here to do something for me, you know? To figure out what_ I_ want…”

Sara nods, pursing her lips. “And if _ what you want _ happens to include a certain snarky hacker?”

Iris shrugs. “I don’t even know if she’s interested.”

(God, Iris wants her to be interested.)

Sara’s replying stare is skeptical. “I’ve seen her looking at you, hon. I’ve seen you looking at her the same way.” She grins, stretching out her arms behind her back. “I hear it’s customary to ask the other party if they’re interested, though. Just a thought. Since you’re so _ ethical _ about relationships.”

Iris throws a pillow at Sara.

She thinks about it, though.

(She still doesn’t call Barry.)

* * *

“Iris! Zari! Got a job for you,” Sara says, a couple of weeks later, as she strolls onto the bridge.

Iris and Zari have been sitting at the bridge window, looking out at the time stream, talking about something completely meaningless - stories from each of their school days. It’s fun… normal. Nothing earth-shattering or world-ending.

Iris _ kind of _wants to kill Sara for interrupting their meaninglessness.

But she’s got a job to do. She gets up as Sara enters, waving the artifact - the one from weeks ago - at them. 

Iris points. “Didn’t that go into time stasis in the cargo bay?”

“Yup.” Sara is swinging the earth totem back and forth in her other hand. “And then Nate walked past the cargo bay wearing _ this, _ and the artifact exploded out of the stasis unit.”

“Yes!” Zari pulls a little notebook out of her back pocket. “That’s the eighth explosion in thirty days. Pay up, Iris.” She holds her hand out triumphantly.

Iris mutters. 

Sara coughs. “As much as I’d like to enable—” she points back and forth between Iris and Zari— “whatever’s going on here, I’m in a hurry. Got a date. So, can you ladies see what you can figure out about this?” 

Zari blinks at her. Points at the totem around her own neck. “This? Air. Earth totem? Kinda the opposite. Not my area.”

Sara grins. “Amaya said something similar. Only less snarky.”

Iris tries not to snort at Zari’s familiar eye-roll, which is becoming less sarcastic and more fond the longer she’s on this ship.

“I just want you to research it.” Sara grins from Iris to Zari and back again. “You’re both pretty good at that. Thought it would be a nice challenge for you.”

Iris doesn’t think she’s imagining that Zari is wearing an identical _ seriously, Sara? _ scowl to her own. But Sara’s disappearing around a corner already, humming to herself.

“Enjoy your date,” Iris calls after her, aiming for teasing, but somehow it comes out supportive.

And Zari and Iris are left smiling at each other, a little hesitantly.

“Awkward,” Iris says, but it doesn’t really feel awkward.

“Totally,” Zari says, equally unconvincingly.

And somehow it didn’t occur to Iris before that Zari only ever looks at _ her _ like that. That knowing little smile, almost shy. As if Iris makes her a little more nervous than Zari Tomaz would ever admit to, but in the best way.

So there they find themselves, once again, in front of the terminal and screen in the study, till late in the night. With donuts. Of course.

“This is a waste of time,” Iris says, her tired eyes blurring the Zambesi news report on the screen. “We’re still trying to figure out what these totems are. This just adds another layer of impossible.” She collapses into a chair.

“Call yourself an investigative reporter?” Zari gets up. Apparently just so she can stand nearer Iris. She covers it by reaching for a donut.

“...Huh,” Iris says out loud. 

Because, yes. That’s what she is. 

That’s what Iris has been doing here, on the Waverider. Sliding back into the role of a journalist - at least, the investigative side of it. Like putting on an old coat you thought you’d grown out of, and realising that it always fit. 

Finding you didn't change as much as you think you did.

Zari is lingering nearby. “Hmm?”

“Yeah.” Iris smiles. “I do call myself that.”

A funny look has crossed Zari’s face. “You said you gave it up because things got complicated.” She glances away. “With your fiancé.” She takes another bite of the donut.

Iris looks up at her, and—

There’s something else she’s wanted, and not pursued, because she was afraid. _ Someone _ else.

But fear just takes you further away from the things, the people, that matter.

Iris gets up, taking a step closer to Zari. “Yeah.”

Zari scowls and shoves the last of the donut into her mouth. Then she’s fidgeting with her ring, sparkling under the glare of the artificial study lights. Spinning it around her finger. And Iris can’t look away. She just wants to take one of Zari’s beautiful coder’s hands in her own, and not let go.

She moves into Zari’s space. “I,” she says slowly, “don’t want to talk about other people—” she takes a step closer, till she’s touching her hand— “anymore.” She lets her hand linger there, brushing against Zari’s fingers. “Just about us. If that’s all right with you.”

Zari doesn't take her eyes off their linked hands. “What _ do _ you want, Iris?”

She feels her eyes narrow, taking Zari in. She’s never felt like this before. She’s never had such a beautiful, compelling woman look at her like this. It’s making her heart flutter like she’s sixteen again. “I’d _ really _ like to kiss you, Zari,” she says carefully. She doesn’t want to assume. Not with Zari, who’s been through so much, so recently. 

But they both have. And they both know what they want. 

“If that’s okay with you,” Iris adds, when Zari hesitates.

“Oh yeah. It’s cool,” Zari says, bringing her hand up to Iris’s face. “Just - if _ you’re _ sure.”

Iris laughs, shaking her head. “Damn, girl - yeah I’m sure. I’ve been watching you for so long.” She stares at Zari’s lips, so sexy when she’s not wearing a scrap of makeup, and with a tiny smudge of strawberry jelly from the donut at a corner of her mouth. She licks her own lips. “You’re really hot, you know that?”

“Damn right,” Zari says, almost in her ear, and Iris laughs. But Zari’s still twisting those gorgeous lips in worry. 

Iris leans back in to kiss Zari - starting by licking off the jelly from the corner of her mouth. Zari giggles… and Iris presses in harder, deeper against her lips, not even trying to disguise the longing that must be coming off her in waves. Zari melts into her. And there’s a spark, but it’s light and fun too, no one making any promises they can’t keep, and it’s _ theirs, _ and _fuck yes _Iris wants this. 

They finally break apart. Between shallow breaths, Iris says, “I know I can’t promise how long for, but… Right now, you’re what I want, Zari.” She holds her gaze for a minute. “You’re _ all _ I want right now.”

She frowns at her shoes, suddenly nervous. Zari doesn’t seem like a one-night stand kind of girl.

Zari smiles that little smile that Iris thinks she might be the only one on board to have seen. Just for her. “Now you’re talking, West,” she says, low and throaty and _ way _ too hot. “Let’s just…” she kisses her again, light and playful… “see where this…” and leans down to kiss her neck… “goes…” and back up to her mouth again…

The kiss turns hot and hard as the two of them stumble backwards towards the couch, and Iris has her hands in Zari’s sleek hair, and Zari’s graceful hands are soft on her face. 

And nothing else matters except the two of them.

(The next day, Iris figures out that the artifact was made to draw all the totems together and amplify their power, and that it’s being called to each of them, throughout time. 

“Guess you’re just an ace reporter like that,” Zari snarks, but she looks honestly impressed.

Iris just smiles.)

* * *

_ Three Months Later _

“Do you have the scarf?”

“What scarf?” Iris asks, with her head in her duffle bag.

She hears Zari tutting behind her. “The one I gave you, jerkface.”

Iris pulls her head out so she can give her girlfriend a wry smile. “No, I thought I’d leave that on the Waverider, just to make you sad. Of course I’ve got it, you weirdo.” She points in mock-warning at her girlfriend. “Don’t make that face.”

Zari leans against the back wall of Iris’s room and scowls harder. “I’ll make whatever face I want to.”

“Oh, come on, Z,” Iris chides softly, getting up. “Don’t be like that.” She takes her girlfriend’s beautiful hand in her own, running her thumb over the second ring that Zari now wears, on her right index finger.

“We’ll call it a commitment ring,” Iris said a month ago, when she got it made for Zari’s birthday.

“Don’t _ monogamous _ couples wear those?” Zari replied with a sly grin.

Iris poked her. “We do what we want, and screw society, remember? We can be committed without needing to be monogamous.” 

Zari’s fleeting, awed kiss was a good enough answer.

“But we don’t have to call it that,” Iris added. She ran her finger across the ring, with its single tiny diamond. “We can just call it… a reminder that we’re together, even across the distance of space and time. It suits you.”

“It does.” Zari smiled down at it, then back up to Iris. “And on balance, I think I prefer the first thing.”

“The commitment ring thing?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

Now, Zari leans down to kiss Iris’s fingers where they sit on top of hers. “Don’t be like what?”

Iris raises her eyebrows. “I know what you’re doing. You’re pretending you don’t have _ feelings _ about me leaving. You can’t fool me, Tomaz.”

Scowling harder, Zari says, “Not only does she leave me, she accuses me of feeling things, too.”

To be fair, Zari’s not the only one. This afternoon’s impromptu goodbye party totally hasn’t left Iris ready to cry at any moment. Especially not when Sara presented her with a time courier engraved with _ Iris West, Ship’s Journalist _ and a card signed by all of them. The inscriptions included _ You’re the best! _ In Ray’s cheerful hand, and in Rory’s scrawl, _ One less person in the line for the bathroom. Come back soon anyway. _

Iris takes hold of the back of Zari’s neck, beneath her tied-back hair, resting her forehead against her girlfriend’s. “You know I’ll be back.” She chuckles. “Frequently. Sara will have to make me temporary crew again every time, I’ll be that annoying.”

“I know.” Zari’s eyes sparkle at her.

Then she rolls them, probably to pretend she never had a moment of _ feelings. _

Iris snorts and turns back to her packing.

“So,” Zari says, sitting down at the end of the bed, “Is Barry meeting you at STAR Labs?”

LIfting her eyes to meet Zari’s again, Iris smiles. Zari is unfailingly supportive of her attempts to mend her relationship with Barry. Right up to supporting her in returning to Central City.

Iris has no idea how she got this lucky… twice. 

It’s taken a while, but now that she and Barry are together again, she’s realising that she can’t change him - that she shouldn’t try. There are ways Barry will never be able to be there for her, not while he’s a hero to a whole city. She loves him, and he loves her - but they can’t be everything to each other.

And that’s why she and Zari work. They can be there for each other in different ways.

It’s not the same. It shouldn’t be. But it’s good, with both of them.

Or it will be, if she can fix things with Barry again.

_ When, _ she thinks firmly. They’ve had the space they needed. Barry needed time to sort out his priorities. And she… She needed time to heal. 

So did Zari, Iris thinks, glancing up at her girlfriend again, whose dark eyes are still tinged with sadness. Iris will be there for her through all of it. Time and space don’t get to come between Iris West and _ anyone _ she loves. 

“Dad’s meeting me,” Iris answers. “I think Barry’s doing a thing where he’s trying to give me some space.” 

“Think he’ll crumble and end up there anyway?”

She grins. “Probably. I’m staying at Dad’s for a bit first, but - well, we’ll see.” She gets up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Zari’s face breaks into a smile that’s so happy for Iris, she kind of wants to cry a little bit. She makes herself grin again, instead, because she’s Iris fucking West and she doesn’t cry out of sentiment. Well, almost never.

“I hope you can make it work,” Zari says, so gently, for her. 

No one else on board gets to see this side of Zari, Iris thinks again, as she takes Z’s hand again. That look is just for Iris.

Just for the two of them.

“So,” Zari says, trailing out of the room behind her. “Can I see you off at STAR Labs?”

“Sure.” Iris spins on her heel, raising an eyebrow at her. “Hey. How’d you like to meet Barry?”

The look on Zari’s face cycles from momentary delight to absolute, bone-chilling terror.

Iris laughs all the way to the jump ship.

When they land at STAR Labs, Zari doesn’t let go of her hand until they step through the door to the Cortex, where Barry is waiting for them.

(Barry and Zari get along famously, of course. The two of them end up eating their way through several gallons of ice cream over video games that afternoon. Iris just watches them both, a little bemused. 

But happy.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated! Come and say hi on on [tumblr](https://sophiainspace.tumblr.com/).


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